


He's my friend.

by iamanidhwal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Au of sorts, Chemist Kuroo Tetsurou, Cigarettes, Dark, Drinking, Goodbyes, Heavy Angst, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Imagery, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lawyer Tsukishima Kei, M/M, Mentioned Bokuto Koutarou, One-Sided Attraction, Other, References to Depression, Smoking, Tags Are Hard, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?, jk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23807422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamanidhwal/pseuds/iamanidhwal
Summary: Tsukishima doesn't know why he always does this. One text from Kuroo about something vague and non-descriptive, and it's all over for him.He drops everything -- his game, his papers, his daily routine -- and he runs.(originally a twitter ficlet)
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	He's my friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt "You've met me at a very strange time in my life."

Tsukishima doesn't know why he always does this. One text from Kuroo about something vague and non-descriptive, and it's all over for him.

He drops everything -- his game, his papers, his daily routine -- and he runs.

 _Ah, so annoying,_ he thinks as he hurriedly takes his coat and, just to be surreptitious, his tin pack of cigarettes before he absently calls out that he's going for a quick break. The other lawyers hunched over their own laptops in cramped cubicles around him just murmur.

Tsukishima has to physically stop himself from sprinting all the way, but he's getting antsy as the elevator doors slowly close and descends at a snail's pace. He curses the speed, curses the word, curses everything that he could lay blame to.

He could very well curse at Kuroo, but he doesn't. Or rather, he can't. And he can't really say why.

Instead, he just stares at the text he's received. Tries to make heads or tails out of it, no matter how futile his previous efforts were.

> **Kuroo T.** : I wonder what the sky will look like tomorrow?

_Idiot, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?_ ,he wants to shout, but he doesn't. The elevator doors slide open just as he starts composing a text message.

> **Tsukishima K.:** That depends on the weather, I suppose.
> 
> **Tsukishima K.** : You could always check?
> 
> **Tsukishima K.:** Apparently it's going to rain. So, I guess, cloudy or stormy.
> 
> **Kuroo T.** : It's raining now.

Tsukishima steps out of the building at the _very_ dry pavement, checks the sky that's burning crimson as the sun sets over the horizon, behind tall buildings seemingly made of glass. He sends one last message before he pockets his phone and starts running.

> **Tsukishima K.** : I'll be right there.

'There' isn't really a defined place for them. They never really talked about a rendezvous point for the times when Kuroo would say cryptic shit and Tsukishima would be forced to run. But it always oscillates around three places, in particular, all in a straight line that Tsukishima passes through on his path, so the minute he sees Kuroo's signature hairstyle he'd stop.

First was a bar and restaurant at the first major intersection east from where the law firm Tsukishima worked for stood. It had glass windows and warm ambient light glowing from within. If Kuroo was there, he'd take the table by the window so Tsukishima would see him, and whenever he'd be seen running Kuroo would tease him half-heartedly before offering Tsukishima the seat across him and a free drink. 

He was there yesterday. He wasn't there now.

Tsukishima runs forward as soon as the light turns green, and he makes sure to go through a small park with a lush forested area. Kuroo would usually hang out by the center, seated on a park bench overlooking a quiet pond, feeding bread crumbs to a family of ducks. He'd stay quiet as Tsukishima sidles into the empty space next to him, and talk only when Tsukishima's breath had evened out. 

He was there now. And Tsukishima sighs in relief before not-so-gracefully collapsing on the seat next to him.

They stay silent for a few minutes, and only when Tsukishima has stopped panting does Kuroo turn to him, with a tired smile on his face. "Yo."

"Hey," he says, tamping down his irritation. He takes his tin pack out of his pocket and takes out an immaculately rolled cigarette plus his flint lighter. One click and he's inhaling nicotine into his lungs, tilting his head back to let it dissipate into the air above him.

"You should really stop smoking," Kuroo muses as he watches Tsukishima absently. "S'bad for your lungs." 

"Speak for yourself," Tsukishima scoffs and levels him with a cool stare. After a few seconds, he offers his tin pack and lighter.

After a few more seconds, Kuroo shrugs and takes one from the container. 

T hey both smoke slowly, in silence, flicking the ashes onto the ground. Some of them get onto the polished surface of Tsukishima's shoes. Kuroo empties his on an empty can of iced coffee.

"You said it was raining," Tsukishima says, ever the great conversationalist. He faces Kuroo, raises an eyebrow. "I don't see any rain."

"It stopped. Just now, when you arrived. Everything's okay now."

Tsukishima sighs, tired of going around in circles."Kuroo, are you okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, of course, Tsukki." Kuroo gives him a small, tired smile. The dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his chin does little to reassure Tsukishima about the truth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Tsukishima bristles. "Because you texted me wondering what the sky would be like tomorrow. As if you're not going to see it yourself." 

"Ah." Kuroo laughs a little, but it feels hollow, like a ringing in a chest cavity. It doesn't sit well, not at all. It doesn't belong in the likes of Kuroo Tetsurou, but Tsukishima finds that he can't remember the last time he's seen the man smile so wide that it actually reaches his eyes.

The conversation falls short once more as it gradually gets colder. Tsukishima is on his second cigarette, Kuroo is on his third. They still stay in the same spot, never moving apart from Kuroo throwing pieces of bread. He stops when the ducks get disinterested and eventually float away. 

"I was just... thinking," Kuroo says, picking up where they left off. It had probably been a full half-hour since they last spoke. 

But Tsukishima doesn't comment on it. "Thinking about?"

"How you met me at a very strange time in my life," Kuroo says, exhaling slowly. 

Tsukishima tilts his head. "I met you in high school."

"Yeah." 

"What was strange about that?"

"Nothing," Kuroo says, crushing the cigarette butt under the heel of his shoe. "I just find it strange how happy I was back then. It feels... unreal."

Tsukishima finds a hard lump in his throat that he can't swallow away. Suddenly the cigarette tasted bad and stale. He puts it out immediately. "Kuroo, I stayed, didn't I?"

"Yeah," he acquiesces. "You and Bo."

"We're still here. We're not going anywhere. You know that, right?"

"Mm." And Kuroo leaves it at that, tilts his head up to look at the first stars that appear in the night sky. Tsukishima mimics him, if only to try and stop his own thoughts from going too fast in a never-ending cycle.

A few moments later and he feels Kuroo's rough palm close over his hand. He feels him shift closer. He smells his breath tinged with coffee and cigarette smoke as he closes the distance between their lips.

Tsukishima doesn't know how to reciprocate, but he doesn't push him away. Kuroo keeps kissing him, but it doesn't have any meaning. He feels their lips meet over and over, tongues tasting and breaths mingling, the flavor of Tsukishima's cigarettes shared between them in the quiet of the night. 

Tsukishima closes his eyes, because he doesn't know why his heart is beating so fast but his stomach is clenched.

_This is wrong. Something's wrong._

And that something was Kuroo, because he wasn't kissing him because he wanted Tsukishima. There was no softness, no desire. If anything, he was kissing him like he was chasing after something. _A feeling? An anchor? A lifeline?_ Tsukishima doesn't know, but he tries, he tries to give everything that he could just for Kuroo to hold on.

They break apart after a few minutes. Tsukishima still has to process everything that's happened, calm his nerves down, and try to ignore the tingling feeling in his lips when Kuroo's already standing up.

"I'll be going," he says, raising his hand in farewell. "Bye then."

"Wait." Tsukishima stands up, desperate for him not to go. There's something wrong. There's something wrong. There's something wrong. "Kuroo, what was that?"

And Kuroo just looks at him, gives him the same sad smile. "Nothing. I just wanted to know what you taste like."

And before he could say anything else, Kuroo walks away.

Tsukishima can't sleep that night. He tosses and turns, but he can't sleep. Or rather, he doesn't. He's far too worked up and far too unwell for his mind and his body to be anywhere near the state of rest. Sleepless nights weren't abnormal in his line of work, but this time he feels restless. Antsy.

It's already morning before he realizes it, and there's a heaviness in his chest that he attributes to fatigue. He sends in a quick text to his boss saying that he's taking a sick leave for the day before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

There's a knock on his door, and he hastily dresses himself before opening the door and seeing two men in uniform, looking a little apologetic.

"Good morning. Are you Mr. Tsukishima Kei?" One of them asks.

Tsukishima fixes his glasses on his nose. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"Do you know a Kuroo... Tetsurou?" The other one asks, checking his notepad.

His heart is pounding. "Yes, he's a chemist in a laboratory down south. Why are you--"

"He's listed you and one Bokuto Koutarou as his only family and emergency contacts."

"What is going o-"

"Mr. Tsukishima, we have some very bad news for you."

And it feels as if he's gone almost-entirely deaf. He hears the words 'body' and 'river' and his imagination gets the best of him. Tsukishima feels the world tilting, as if the ground had been pulled from underneath him, and it fades to black around the edges. He tries to get a grip on reality. He tries so hard, but he keeps slipping, and he wants to scream until his throat is raw, yell everything he's always wanted to say.

_Kuroo._

_Let's share another drink sometime next week._

_And I'll drink a lot of kahlua and milk and you'll tease me for my choice of drink._

_Kuroo._

_Let's sit and talk in the park._

_And I'll bring the best bread so you can win over more ducks._

_Kuroo._

_Let's not to go to the third location._

_I keep telling you not to. That's the river, and you never learned how to swim._

_Kuroo._

_The night sky looks so nice. We could sit in silence for hours and share cigarettes._

_You can kiss me until you find solid ground again._

_You can hold onto me until the world feels right again._

_I know it's been years since it's been like that for you, but someday, someday it will -- surely, it will --_

"Mr. Tsukishima? Mr. Tsukishima."

"Yes?" He breathes out faintly as he regains his composure. He's shivering and covered in sweat, and he finds his knees too weak to keep himself standing for long.

One officer already has his hand on his arm, helping him up. "You need to rest. Please. May we come in?"

Tsukishima nods mutely and the officers invite themselves in. They make sure to fix Tsukishima a cup of tea and give him his blanket for shock. It has little effect on him, and by the time he's ready to speak the tea had already gone cold.

"Take your time," one of the officers whisper. "We'll wait 'til you're ready."

Tsukishima breathes in shakily. "I don't think I ever will be. Please, let's just get this over with."

The officers look at one another, shoots him a look of sympathy, then opens his notepad.

"Mr. Tsukishima, what was your relation to Kuroo Tetsurou?"

He bites his lip as he thinks to the very first moment they've met that one summer evening in high school. He thinks of all the moments they've shared since, of raucous merry-making and quiet evenings, cigarettes on balconies, kisses in park benches. He thinks of Kuroo's wide smile that had lost its shine and brilliance every year since. He thinks of the messages he's sent, the vague responses, the finality of his goodbye from yesterday.

Tsukishima's hand clutches at his heart because it _aches_. It hurts so much. It hurts even more when the officers call him a 'was'. Not 'is'. ' _Was_ '.

Tsukishima feels his tears rolling down his cheeks, but he doesn't stop to wipe them away. He gulps and forces out the words.

"He's my friend."

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and comments no d-word threats pls lskdaldksd;'dla writing this physically hurt me


End file.
